There were tears, but invisible. & mirrors. Looking
into mirrors, then looking away. There were holes
in logic in truth, old moth-bitten sweaters, holes I dug,
called home. Not many calls home, but there was smoke,
but really, fog. Yes, there was a fog machine I
controlled & no one else. There were alleys, backseats,
black eyes, bloody nose. The slow transforming
into ghost ¹

¹ then

a gathering, inside the body, birds blue red orange
migrating. There were words, many. Faces, small & blank
as seeds, later grew into smiles. There was laughter.
A meet cute. Green olives swimming in dry martinis.
A house. A cat. A marriage. The dream
of a garden. There were days we did absolutely nothing.
Couches, body pillows, burgers delivered.
There were days we opened the closet to only 5 strips
of darkness. Limbs tied to the bed. Blindfolded. Lips.
Skin erupted in goosebumps. There was light. So much light,
we carried it. He & I. Handed it out to all who passed by,
armfuls, life’s lemons iridescent rolling to the ground
like ellipses. We were walking. We’re still
walking, off into the sunset, no, sunrise. It’s only
morning.